


a baring of the soul [on hold]

by allmywill



Category: Arcadia (UK Band), Duran Duran
Genre: Alternate Universe, Babies, Crying, Dialogue Light, Emotions, Established Relationship, Experimental Style, FTM Nick Rhodes, Family Planning, Flashbacks, Impregnation, M/M, Making Love, Pregnancy, Softcore Porn, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill
Summary: It’s deeply personal, two souls free of any secrets or falsities. Intimate and precious, the moments drag on by. Each one is wallowed in. Each one is more beautiful than the last, somehow, someway. And they teeter, so close, so ready to begin a whole new kind of fall together.
Relationships: Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes
Comments: 19
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is an idea of mine that i’ve been suppressing for a while, partly because i don’t want to steal Tash (@Pink_And_Velvet)’s thunder. i’ve never written anything like this before and i’m willing to give it my all, once i figure out how i’m going about it.
> 
> something to keep in mind: Nick here is transgender (FTM, meaning female to male) but _not _actively transitioning. personally, i don’t identify as cisgender but i am not a trans man, so i just want to be careful here.__
> 
> all my love and respect goes out to trans people. you are all so beautiful and you deserve to be treated equally, of course. whoever you are, i hope you enjoy this story! much love.

_April 1985_

Careful fingertips set already blazing skin aflame, wanting and desire in every breath. Enough is never quite enough. They both push further, further, further. On the cusp of something completely new, a life completely changed, they teeter together, playing with the distance between yesterday and now.

Shift and sway, shiver and shake, a large hand dips down impossibly low. There’s a sigh, heavy and breathy, as the hand is accommodated with no hesitation. Black cloth pushed aside, fingers plunge into warm, wet heat. The man works two inside as his lover keens, stretched out on his extended back.

His chest gives the illusion of flatness, hidden beneath a black button down shirt and a binder of a matching color; its comforting tightness like a corset. His truth is concealed, but here, with his love, it escapes without an ounce of shame.  He spreads his legs further apart, allowing the other man better access. His fingers work their usual magic, though the moment feels different from their normal routine.

Maybe it’ll work this time. Maybe they’ll get what they’ve been desiring.

What started off as something casual between them quickly grew into an incomparable adoration, a baring of their souls. Any coldness between them warmed to a scorching intensity. The desire burns, and continues to burn. This union is evidence of their flame, which has grown to be much more than just a fire. It consumes them; two men turned to ashes before their own eyes.

Black undergarments are pulled down curved thighs, lacy and ruined. The larger man’s hands send electric shocks through the smaller’s body, voices and other sounds ringing; music in his ears. It’s like floating, like drifting weightlessly through space and time. He looks up at his lover with sheer desire. It’s a feeling so strong he can hardly hold it all within himself, so powerful it seems to encompass his entire being.

Cleaning his fingers on his own trousers, the man reaches for the other’s shirt. He recalls how he used to shy away from this part in their earlier days, insisting on it being left on during their more intimate moments. But he has since gained his trust, so much that he doesn’t flinch at all when the buttons start to slip through the holes. The black binder is all that remains on his slender body.

Their eyes meet, lips quivering slightly in the low light of their bedroom. The careful hands unhook each small clasp, delicately working on the concealing garment’s removal. It comes off as the last clasp is undone, the man underneath glassy eyed, but of course, not from the feeling of exposure.

Further undressing himself so he matches his lover, the man shucks off his trousers and boxers, aching member freed. He leans down and hovers over the other man. He brushes a stray lock of blonde hair out of his lidded eyes. Leaning into the gentle touch, a small smile graces his bare face. Makeup is not necessary here.

He is completely stripped, vulnerable, yet he has never felt more safe in anyone else’s presence. He is cradled, taken care of with each movement. He is loved beyond his own comprehension of the great feeling.

Their lips join in the glow of their affection, deep and full of longing. But there is no need to long, to yearn, for they have each other in the most secure fashion possible. Wedding rings serve as a reminder of that wonderful day. The smaller man feels his heart pound like a drum as the other caresses him, a hand drifting down from his neck and stopping at his breast. He smiles against his mouth as he gives it a light squeeze, that teasing very like him.

Their tongues mingle before they pull apart, the hand dipping low once more. Throwing his head back, the man underneath keens again, veins flooded with many intense feelings and a crazy drive for more. Their teeter becomes more like a dance on the ledge, though the smaller man would insist he doesn’t dance very well. This is a different dance entirely, and the other reckons he’s wonderful at it.

The same two fingers enter him again, the delightful space between his soft thighs damp and slick. His little sighs grow to pants, restless body desperate for something new. Something to further nurture this sensual feeling. The other man notices right away. After a few moments, scissoring them inside his warmth, he removes them once more.

Legs further spread, the larger man gets into position, cock already leaking from seeing his lover so worked up for him. His beauty is striking, gorgeous green eyes brimmed with pure emotion. He nods, giving him the go ahead, and he starts to push in slowly. One hand on his thigh, one on his hip, he feels the heat rise even more.

He bottoms out soon enough, buried completely inside his lover. He leans down and puts two hands beside his head, propped up by a luxurious pillow. (Only the best for him.) The smaller man’s mouth goes slack and he’s in paradise, feeling so much that it overwhelms every cell in his body. He feels as though he may burst into tears, the happiest of tears.

He realizes what this could mean for them. Their future could be transformed, colored in brightness. And he doesn’t know if there is anything more beautiful, anything worth living for more than that ideal life he’s been chasing with his husband.

Their dance intensifies. A set of manicured hands find the back of the other man, the pads of his fingers pressing light into the muscle there. He feels him start to move, nothing at all between them, and it feels wonderful. They’re further solidifying the decision they made, the one they’ve spent hours and hours discussing. They’re sure of this. They’ve never been more sure, more ready to take the next step.

They are ready to become parents.

His thrusts are deep yet slow enough to be savored, dragging out the minutes with every tender touch. Faces close, the smaller man listens to his soft voice, as he utters loving words, fragmented slightly by the pleasure he feels. His lips meet his face as he registers hot tears rolling down his cheeks, emotion finally conquering him, spilling over and pouring out. The sensation of deep, true love is beyond anything he ever thought he deserved.

Trembling, he takes all he is given, moving with his lover as their skin meets again and again. Heart beats quicken to a pounding rhythm, synched up; they’ve always been a harmonic pair. As if this were a beautiful melody, both put in the same efforts to its meticulous creation. Emotions are on high as the rain outside pours down on the otherwise lazy Sunday evening, streets wet as headlights shine through in the foggy haze.

The larger man thrusts deeper, causing the other’s back to arch off the bed. He kisses his lips as his eyes grow misty as well. He’s always been emotional; his lyrics saturated in feeling and wooing millions around the world with their delivery.

Before the cusp is met, before they cry out in ecstasy together for the final time, their eyes meet again. Blue and green mingle, so familiar to one another. Love burns between them. That same fire that turns them to ash is now being used to create new life.

It’s deeply personal, two souls free of any secrets or falsities. Intimate and precious, the moments drag on by. Each one is wallowed in. Each one is more beautiful than the last, somehow, someway. And they teeter, so close, so ready to begin a whole new kind of fall together.

“ _Charlie_ ,” the smaller man sighs out, filled with his love. Bliss seems like an understatement for the feeling that overcomes his every sense.

“ _Nick_ ,” comes his reply, strangled slightly, as a tear paves a track down his cheek. He comes undone, and so the fall begins.

Still inside of him, Simon claims his lips once more. He notes how they quiver, buildup of emotion to blame. He is careful with Nick’s tender body when he does finally pull out, fluids starting to leak out onto the sheets.

Their tears stagnate, relief present now. They need to clean themselves up, perhaps get ready for slumber, but neither want the moment to end. Nick would much rather stay up and talk, anyway; he’s always been a night owl, and a late riser to match.

Simon collapses beside him and pulls him in by his thin waist. They’re flush together, chest to chest. They breathe. They sigh, soft and low.

One of Simon’s hands settles on his stomach, fingertips brushing, gliding along still warm skin. He imagines a growing bump there. He imagines doing the same with his child dancing underneath his touch, kicking, heart beating inside of Nick. He wants nothing more.

Nick smiles, lips upturned. Seeing him happy makes him happy too, and he’s hoping, praying that this time, that they’re successful.

Nick places a smaller hand on top of Simon’s, pressing more into his skin. He too imagines the swelling, knowing he’s carrying new life. He wants nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many tears, and not just Nick and Simon’s tears. i keep crying over this fic!

_ October 1984 _

_ “Would you like to hold him, Nick?” Tracey’s voice is soft as she cradles her son in her arms. Andy is sitting next to her with his face glowing brightly, radiating happiness. He’s a proud father and it’s so nice to see this softer side of him._

_ Nick nods. He’s smiling too. Tracey must have noticed how he watched her intently, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, daydreaming about being in her place. She hands her son over gently, making sure Nick supports his head before she pulls away completely._

_Looking at his face, into his eyes that look just like Andy’s own, he feels something huge creating a home within him. It’s been on his mind before, but now it’s amplified even more. He has never wanted anything so much and it almost scares him. _

_ Suddenly, his wedding ring feels heavy on his finger and his breath catches in his aching lungs. His teased blonde hair is swept back and does little to hide the expression on his face; it’s one of the purest delight. Painted pink lips frame a perfect smile, and in his mind, he’s thinking of one thing and one thing only. _

_ Simon walks in the room just in time, catching Nick in his moment of bliss. Tracey and Andy seem to notice, for they fall quiet, watching the newlyweds gaze at each other with a special kind of something in their eyes. They both know exactly what that look means._

_ “Hi, Andrew,” Nick coos, looking back down at the baby in his arms. He can’t help but notice how Simon’s eyes follow, blue irises softly watching the two of them. He remains quiet, which isn’t like him._

_ He paces towards the loveseat, sitting next to his husband so their bodies are pressed together. There’s caution in his movements, body language changing to fit the mood that has just washed over them. Simon snakes an arm around his waist, head resting on his shoulder. He has the dopiest grin on his face. Nick doesn’t need to see it to know it’s there; he can feel it. _

_ Andrew looks from Nick to Simon, wide eyes glued to their faces. “Aren’t you just adorable?” Simon chuckles, absolutely elated. “He’s gonna be a wild boy someday, Andy. Better watch out for him.” _

_ “You two need a wild boy of your own.” Andy tilts his head, eyeing his band mates. “Or girl.” _

_ “Girls can be wild too,” Tracey adds, looking at her husband. Together they share a laugh. _

_ “That they can.” _

_ Simon extends a hand, a large finger touching his tiny hand. It takes a moment, but he eventually clutches at it, making Nick’s heart do a somersault. He knows Simon feels what he feels, the same desire that melts him down to his core and sets him free. _

_ Nick leans into him more, his warmth spreading from head to toe. “He’s the sweetest thing, Trace.” _

_ “I must say Nick, you look good with a baby.” She pushes her hair back and grins. “I’m sure Simon agrees.” _

_ He turns to Simon, their eyes locking. There’s so much love present in them. A whimper almost slips past his lips, but he stops himself. He doesn’t know what to say. Maybe it doesn’t matter; most conversations start off silently. Especially ones like this._

_ He hands baby Andrew over to him, handling him with great care. It’s his turn to go all starry eyed at the sight of his husband holding a baby. Though the words are unspoken between the two of them, for now, Andy and Tracey say it again. _

_ “Look at them, babe. They’re so cute.” _

_ “You’d both make great parents.” _

_ Nick, still cuddled up to Simon, notices that he’s humming softly. It sounds a lot like the lulling melody of Save A Prayer. They’ve come far since then, the two of them. The band too. _

_ “Someday.” The simple word flows out of his mouth with ease, like a melody would from his fingertips. _

_ Simon stops humming the tune. “Someday,” he repeats, beaming in every way. _

_ Nick knows in his heart that he means it. _

———

_ April 1985 _

The anticipation very well drives Simon up the wall of their home. He patiently waits outside the bathroom door for Nick, heart pounding at an alarming rate as the seconds pass like hours. This is the part he has to grown to love to hate. It has ended in disappointment every time so far, leaving them empty handed.

He even resorts to taking the deepest breath he can and closing his eyes, trying to keep himself together. He has lost count of how many times he’s been in this same situation, and each time, it has only added to Nick’s poorly concealed despair. He tries not to think about it too much; it hurts to see him upset.

_Everything is going to be fine, everything is going to be—_

The phone starts to ring, yanking him from his thoughts.

_ Fucking hell. _

He runs to pick it up, anything to distract him from this moment of pure agony. Plus the ringing would only serve as an anxiety inducing annoyance.

“Hello?”

“Charlie!” It’s John, of course, and he’s practically screaming through the line.

He then starts talking so fast that Simon can’t make out what he’s saying. His mind is a wreck, worried and strung out over Nick. Something about _A View to A Kill_ , a release date, something about Robert and Tony...

“Hey, you still there?”

Simon swallows thickly, heart pounding. He really regrets answering the call. “Uh, yeah... John, I’ll call you back in a bit. Something’s come up.”

“Something wrong?” John asks, to his chagrin. “You don’t sound good. What’s Nick up to?”

“He’s, uh... busy.” He then hears the door unlock and open. He swears his heart sinks through the floor. “Sorry, bad time. Gotta go, I’ll call you.”

He hangs up and turns around so fast he makes himself dizzy. Blonde hair a mess, no makeup on, Nick is practically sobbing as he falls into his open arms. He automatically assumes the worst and he too feels himself welling up. Not again, _not again._

“Oh, darling,” Simon sighs into his hair, hugging him so tightly that he can feel every inch of him. “It’ll be okay, we’ll try again. We’ll keep trying—”

“No, Charlie,” Nick cries, pulling away slightly. He smiles through his tears. They’re not tears of sadness, of heartbreak. They’re tears of joy. “It worked this time. I’m pregnant.”

Simon’s jaw drops, and the tears come, flooding his vision. “Oh my god,” he says, shock in his veins and heartbeat pounding harder, still. “Fuck, Nick.”

“I’m... I’m so _happy_ ,” he stutters in reply, emotions making it hard to speak. Simon pulls him back into his embrace, strong arms holding him in place.

He buries his face into his neck, lifting him off the ground as they bask in the moment together. Simon turns to press kisses to his face, soaked in salty tears, but this time, they’re not tears of despair. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” Nick chokes out, smile growing. He captures Simon’s lips with his own, showing him the love he feels, burning up with passion.

As they part, Simon puts him down, sinking to his knees before Nick. He places his head atop his stomach. He’s smiling and the tears won’t stop. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s choked up and everything feels beautiful.

Nick cards his hands through Simon’s hair, now cut short. His own tears aren’t letting up either. “You’ll be a good dad.”

“So will you. The _best_.”

They stay like that for some time, basking in the moment, two pounding heartbeats beating in beautiful synchronicity. Soon, there will be a third.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i’m finally back at this fic. i have revamped my plans completely and will be writing this a lot differently than i originally anticipated. it won’t be as long, or feature the other Durans as much, but it’ll pack a punch. i hope you enjoy 💕

_ May 1985 _

April comes and goes, time passing differently now. Nick feels different, finally having what he spent so many hours dreaming about. The band and the music almost feels like something secondary in his life now, which is a place he didn’t think he’d ever be in.

He’s much more concerned with the new life he’s carrying than the release of _A View to A Kill_. He finds himself growing detached from the spiraling whirlwind of it all; his mind elsewhere. He can tell Simon is feeling very much the same.

As the weeks stretch to a month, and morning sickness becomes an untamable monster, Simon doesn’t leave his side. He sits on the bathroom floor with him and rubs his back tenderly, ready for anything and everything fatherhood may throw his way. He uses his soothing voice to calm his husband.

“I’m here, darling. You’ll be okay,” he tells him, holding back his messy blonde hair.

And Nick, subdued by his illness, replies, “thank you, Charlie.”

Simon spends his nights holding him close, never daring to let go. Their hands find one another beneath warm sheets, Nick’s soft stomach underneath their gentle fingertips. He’s there when he wakes suddenly, when odd dreams shake him from his slumber. Instinct takes over; the primal urge to protect the one he loves. Simon holds him, keeps him safe until the sun rises.

They wait a bit to tell their band mates, knowing full well just how busy and how rough things have been between the five of them lately. The tension has grown a frightening amount over the past couple months. It feels as though they’re always on the cusp of something terrible. Even so, there’s still love and respect present. It’s just not as easy to see anymore, hidden deep below the surface.

John, even in his hardly sober state, is ecstatic for both of his best friends. Andy receives the news along with him, congratulating the couple in his thick accent over the phone one evening.

The guitarist apologizes to baby Le Bon for the camera incident in their latest music video, earning a hearty laugh from Simon.

Though he’s with them, Roger doesn’t seem himself. He seems a million miles away. Something is clearly off with the drummer, but as they work together on their new side project, Simon delivers the exciting news with Nick by his side. He clutches his smaller hand, their wedding rings worn proudly. Their eyes fill with feeling, brimming with raw emotion.

_Parents._ Perhaps it’s too early to call themselves such, but they can’t help it. It’s exciting, it’s new, and it’s a journey that might not be easy. Yet it’s one they’re willing to take together, no matter the troubles they may face.

———

_ December 1980 _

_ The world truly is their oyster, and even at eighteen years old, as he looks at Simon, Nick knows his search for love is over. He has found it in the exuberant, sweet, caring singer of their band. _

_ Real, true love is in those baby blues. Nick returns it in hues of green, sometimes dark and sometimes light. Under the sleazy lighting of the Rum Runner, surrounded by nightlife, they fell for each other as deeply as one can fall. Secrets were shared in darkness, meaningful words spoken between drinks of all kinds and beloved synth tracks blasted over the club’s speakers. It’s a strange place for love to grow, indeed. _

_ But love can grow in any and all circumstances. It can nestle in the spaces between one’s rib cage when they least expect it, making a home there. It certainly happened that way for Nick, when he was utterly convinced there wasn’t a soul who could love him for the real man he was. _

_ He knows now that that’s not true. Simon is kissing down his neck, pulling his white puffy shirt down and leaving a trail. Nick sighs softly and lets Simon press him further into the wall, intoxicated by the magic of his mouth. _

_ “Beautiful,” Simon utters as he draws away for a moment. His hands come up to cup Nick’s face, sincerity in his voice and his glance. _

_ “Simon.” Nick exhales, growing needy. He’s burning up with desire. “I need you.” _

_ His breathy words get Simon moving; those special words do something to him. His hands fall to Nick’s hips and work at the leather trousers clinging to his thighs. The button is popped and the zipper is pulled down. His underwear soon join them. _

_ Before Simon can do the same for himself, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a condom. “No babies yet,” he remarks. _

_ Nick giggles. “No,” he agrees. “Maybe someday, though.” _

_ “You want kids someday?” Simon asks out of curiosity, yanking his own trousers down. _

_ “Yeah.” Nick gazes at him, longing in his eyes. “Do you?” _

_ “Yes, of course.” _

_ Nick smiles. He has a million questions he wants to ask him on the tip of his tongue, but he’ll save them for later. He’d rather not ruin the moment. _

_ As Simon enters him, he imagines the two of them down the line, really trying for a baby. Perhaps married, with himself taking Simon’s last name. The thought warms his heart. _

_ For now, he lets the pleasure fill his veins. He is loved. _


End file.
